


Spring Break

by grimmfairy



Series: That's what friends are for [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crying Stiles, Drugged Stiles Stilinski, FTM Stiles Stilinski, Father-Son Relationship, Happy Stiles Stilinski, Hospitals, Hugs, Medical Procedures, Nice Jackson, Stiles Needs a Hug, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore Friendship, Stilinski Family Feels, Surgery, Top surgery discussion, Trans Character, Trans Stiles, because he looks like he wants to, money problems, with painkillers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:38:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmfairy/pseuds/grimmfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is acting strange, so Jackson goes to talk to him about the problem and then tries to find a way to help his friend.</p><p>"Talk to me."</p><p>"Do you-do you know what top surgery is?" Stiles asked hesitantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If I have information wrong please point it out nicely in the comments and I will attempt to fix it

Jackson had never really thought much about Stiles's "condition" after the initial shock upon discovering that his friend was transgender. It wasn't that he didn't care, because he did. He just didn't really know how to breach that particular subject with Stiles especially considering that the boy was still uncomfortable with the rest of their friends knowing. But just because he didn't want to ask Stiles directly did not stop Jackson from doing some internet researching about the process. He did this is small burst, his cheeks flaming when he accidentally landed a skeevy pron site more than once, and his heart constricting while reading the comment sections of articles about famous trans celebrities. The things people said were absolutely vile. They made Jackson's remarks sound like compliments. 

Lately, Stiles had seemed...off. Not really sad or angry or upset. Just off. He laughed and joked with Scott and carried Danny's books because the guy had to use crutches for at least another week and argued with Jackson about whether or not plaid was a fashion statement, but something was different. His smile fell to a sadness when he thought no one was looking, and he zoned out in class even more so than usual. Harris hadn't missed it either, and had given Stiles detention every day this week. Jackson wanted to ask Stiles what was wrong, but when confronted Stiles had a tendency to lie unconvincingly before fleeing the scene. It was nearing spring break, and everyone was discussing spring break plans around the table when Stiles abruptly stood and hurried away from the table. Jackson wanted to follow, but Scott shook his head 'no'. Jackson had to back down because even though Scott had been an idiot for awhile, he did know Stiles better. That did not stop him from bringing Stiles a milkshake from the diner after lacrosse practice ended. Scott had again warned him against bugging Stiles for information, but he decided it was time for a more direct approach.

Stiles was surprised to see his friend at his door, but smiled tiredly and accepted the chocolate and strawberry swirl milkshake with grabby hands. They hung out in Stiles's room for awhile, doing homework. The only sounds were the slurps Stiles made as he drank the shake and the sound of pencils on paper. Finally, when the air was thick with tension and homework was done for the night, Jackson sat on the bed facing Stiles where he sat at his desk.

"Tell me what's going on with you."

Stiles seemed surprised at first but quickly put on his mask.

"Nothing, dude. I'm fine," Stiles's smile was so forced it made _Jackson's_ face hurt. At Jackson's raised eyebrow, Stiles offered a little more. "Seriously, it's nothing you need to worry about."

"I'm your friend, of course I need to worry. You always worry about me. Why-" Jackson sighed. His pride was shying away from talking about his feelings but he grit his teeth and started again. "I need to know you're okay. I don't-I don't have a lot of close friends and it makes me...sad to see you hiding how you're feeling."

"Aww, you do care," Stiles grinned, a real smile for once. Jackson grinned too, but it fell with Stiles's. "I just...You guys were all talking about Spring Break and stuff, and I'm happy that you all get to do fun stuff even though I'm staying here. But the thing that I wanted to do-"

Stiles stopped when his breath hitched, and he curled his hands into fists in his lap. His lower lip wobbled and Jackson wanted to comfort him but Stiles was radiating "If you touch me I'll shut down" and he hated to see Stiles that way. It lasted for hours.

"What did you want to do?" Jackson prodded gently. Stiles wiped at his eyes and rubbed his face his hands and sighed again. "Talk to me."

"Do you-Do you know what top surgery is?" Stiles asked hesitantly. Jackson blushed but nodded. He had done his research after all. "Sorry, you don't need to hear this. It's not your problem."

"No, no. Stiles, look. I know I'm probably the last person you ever thought you'd be talking to about... _this_ ," Jackson rolled his eyes at Stiles's snort of laughter and continued. "But, I want to help you. So just...This is a no-judgement, no awkwardness zone for the rest of the night. So, shoot."

Stiles nodded, but it took him awhile to start talking again. He had already talked to Scott about his problem, but Scott was so optimistic he wasn't helpful.

"So, I've been saving money for top surgery for years. Chores, part-time jobs, babysitting, birthday money. Anything. My dad has shitty health insurance, so they don't want to cover the surgery, and Dad can't afford to pay for it and pay the bills and the jeep breaks down all the time, but still. I almost...I came _so_ close to having enough. I was going to- Spring Break was supposed to be my first week of recovery and then Dad was going to call me out of school for the next week. But now I can't. All those pre-op therapy sessions for nothing. You know?"

Obviously Jackson didn't personally know, but he could see where Stiles was coming from. He had looked up the cost of top surgery once, and the shocking price tag of something like that was around $10,500 dollars or more. Plus the amount of mental preparation that had to happen first.

"So what happened?"

"I-" Stiles felt his tears start to spill over. "I had to get an MRI and some tests done. The bills were so high, and we needed money for that so..."

"An MRI?" Jackson didn't remember Stiles talking about that. "Why?"

"Because..." Stiles shrugged and rubbed his hands together in his lap, a nervous tic. "Because my mom died of frontotemporal dementia, and I started to exhibit some of the really early signs..."

Stiles looked up and met Jackson's scared blue eyes and heartbroken expression. He shook his head and waved his hands expressively.

"No, no I don't have it! Turns out that when I fell down the bleachers at your lacrosse game a couple weeks ago I gave myself a slight head trauma. And I might be depressed," Stiles half-smiled and shrugged. "Who knew? But now I can't afford the surgery for another year, probably. And now I'm starting to wonder if maybe i should just...I don't know, save the money for college. But I was so excited. For the first time, I was excited."

"Excited for what?"

"To look in the mirror," Stiles whispered. Jackson patted the bed next to himself and accepted Stiles's hug. His friend cried into his shoulder and held tight. "I haven't even canceled the appointment yet. I just..."

Jackson held his friend and tried to find something to say. It was a bad situation all around. What could he say to something like this?

"How much are you short?" Jackson asked softly. He already had scouts looking at him for lacrosse and swimming from his dream schools, and a plan began to form. Stiles sniffled and shrugged again. "Come on, I know you know."

"About $2000 and change. I can't get that kind of money that soon."

They talked about other things for awhile after Stiles calmed, and when Jackson went home he went straight to his parents and sat them down.

"Mom, dad, can I get a loan from my trust fund?"


	2. Chapter 2

To say that Sheriff Stilinski wasn't expecting to see Jackson at the station would be an exaggeration. He saw the boy often enough when Stiles dropped off food for him, but always accompanied by his son. So when Jackson strolled into the station like he owned the place, the older man figured he was in for an interesting time. As soon as the door closed behind Jackson and they were alone in the Sheriff's office, the teenager spoke.

"I know about Stiles's surgery."

John paused, searching Jackson's face for disdain, hatred, any of the expressions he used to see when others discussed his child and the surgeries necessary. He had almost been waiting for the other shoe to drop even though Jackson had tried hard to prove himself to the Sheriff that he wasn't the same bully he used to be. When the Sheriff found none, he motioned for Jackson to continue.

"I talked to him last night," Jackson took a seat in front of the man's desk, feeling very small and young. "He said that he'll have to wait a year, maybe longer. And that's not fair."

"Son, very little in Stiles's life has been fair," John sighed. Jackson inwardly preened at the way John called him 'son' like did McCall. "I tried to find a way, but Stiles refuses to let me take out a loan and we're barely above water right now. I might get a pay raise from the state next year, but that's a long ways off."

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Jackson fidgeted nervously. His parents had warned him about the way he should phrase this. "Stiles has done so much for me and been there for me when ever I needed him once I stopped being a total dic-jerk to him. I want to help him and seeing him so...distraught..."

"There's not a lot you can do unless you can find two thousand dollars for the initial surgery. That doesn't even cover the recovery process, time off work, scar treatment, post-op visits. The aftermath is manageable but...We just don't have the money," John sagged in his chair. He was touched by Jackson's concern, certainly, but it didn't really change the facts.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," Jackson handed the Sheriff an envelope and waited for him to open it and inspect the contents. The man was quiet for a long time, examining the check in his hands. "I took it out of my trust fund with my parent's permission. They don't know exactly what it's for but as long as it's not drugs or something they trust me. I want to give it to Stiles for his surgery as a gift. Or a loan if that makes you more comfortable. I don't want to overstep but he was so upset-"

John stood abruptly and walked to the door.

"Come with me, son."

* * *

Stiles was asleep, burrowed into the comforter on his bed and dreaming of overly huge fast food when his dad walked in the room. John took a moment to observe his son, and allowed himself to visualize what he would look like if he had stayed Gizela instead. But he found that no images came to mind. This was his son. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Stiles's back and gently shook him.

"Stiles, wake up kiddo. I need to talk to you," John smiled at the way Stiles blinked up at him like a baby deer. "Come downstairs, okay?"

Stiles nodded and sat up, stretching with a huge yawn. John made his way downstairs where Jackson was awkwardly sitting in the living room.

"He's coming down. Want some coffee?"

When Stiles came downstairs, Jackson and his father were seated in the living room and there was a cup of coffee waiting for him.

"Hey, Jacks. What're you doing here?" Stiles rubbed at his eyes and sipped his coffee. 

"Jackson has something to ask you, kiddo. We've already talked about it, but it's your choice," John explained. Stiles looked questioningly at his friend.

Jackson shifted nervously and then pulled out the check again. It was folded over, but Stiles knew what it was.

"I talked to my parents when i got home last night, and...well, they said that my trust fund was mine to do what I wanted. So-" Jackson held out the check for Stiles to take, which he did after a moment of hesitation.

"I can't take this..." Stiles looked conflicted. On the one hand, he could take the money and get what he wanted. But his own pride rebelled at the idea of taking someone else's money even as his fingers curled around the paper in his hand. "Jackson, I-I appreciate the offer but-"

Jackson had to cut him off. He needed to get his point across to hi friend.

"It's not charity, it's a loan so you can pay _me_ back in a year instead of waiting a year to maybe save enough. I want you to get your surgery and be who you want to be, and money seemed like such a dumb reason not to get the one thing you've saved for all this time so please don't reject it-mmph!" Jackson (and the couch he was seated on) just about tipped over when Stiles slammed into him. 

"I will pay you back as soon as I can I _promise_!" Stiles was crying again, but he was also laughing. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

Jackson watched with a bemused smile and his breath knocked out as Stiles ran upstairs to get his cellphone to call Scott.

"You are the last person I would have ever expected to have in my house at all, much less paying for my son's top surgery," John said when Stiles was out of sight. "What changed?"

Jackson flushed. Of course the Sheriff knew about how he had treated Stiles years before. He wasn't proud of that. He was self-aware enough to know that he would never be the kind of person Scott was, he had too many rough edges. But being friends with Stiles had showed how pointless it was to be popular but alone.

"I honestly don't really know. I guess that Stiles just never took any crap from me," Jackson shrugged. "He's my friend."

* * *

"Hey, how's your tropical paradise?" Stiles's voice was only slightly tinny. Jackson looked out over the beach where he was tanning and grinned.

"There's nothing to do but lay around in the sun watch girls drool over me."

"Whoa, down boy. You're still jailbait, pretty boy," Stiles giggled, imagining the look on Jackson's face. There was a comfortable silence for a minute.

"Are you ready?" Jackson asked gently.

"Yeah. Dad's driving me to the hospital and Scott and Melissa are going to be there too," Stiles heard his father calling his name. "I gotta go. Just wanted to say hi."

"Hey, I'd be there if I could, but this sun isn't going soak itself up," Jackson laughed when he heard a muffled grunt and a curse. Stiles had definitely tripped over something. "I'll see you when I get back, alright?"

"Bring me a souvenir!"

"Goodbye Stilinski!" Jackson added quietly. "Good luck."

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, buddy! Say hi to Jackson!" 

"Jackson? Where?" Stiles slurred. Scott giggled from behind his phone as he recorded his drugged friend. Jackson smiled at him. Scott and he had set up the Skype date specifically for the period when Stiles was the most high on painkillers. Next to his friend's hospital bed was a small mountain of presents and cards from Scott, Melissa, and John.

"Right here, Stilinski. Look at the phone," Jackson waved at Stiles and the other boy's face lit up. "How do you feel?"

"I'm a boy now!"

Jackson laughed with Scott. 

"You were a boy before, silly," Scott pointed out. John could be heard in the background laughing too.

"Really?!" Stiles was incredulous. His eyes were only slightly unfocused.

"Yeah, bud. Really," Jackson agreed. "What are you doing today?"

"Scotty is here and we watched an awesome movie!" Stiles face lit up. "Scotty! We watched a movie!"

"Yeah, yeah we did," Scott turned the phone around so Jackson could see his face. "He was flipping through the channels and he landed on a Scooby doo movie where they meet John Cena."

"Oh my god, I hope you've been recording him," Jackson laughed at Scott's enthusiastic nodding. Scott flipped the phone back around to show him Stiles who was staring delightedly at a small blue whale stuffed animal. "Hey, make a new friend?

"Her name is Facebook!" Stiles cooed at the stuffed animal. "Cause she's blue!"

"She's Stiles's best friend now, right buddy?" Scott asked, giggling. Stiles suddenly looked serious. 

" _Jaaaaacccckkkkssssoooooonnnnn_ when are you coming home? I want both of my besties here!" Stiles whined. 

"I'm getting on the plane at the end of the week," Jackson soothed. "You'll be a lot less high when I see you, okay?"

"Okie dokie Jackie boy!" Jackson refrained from telling him not to call his that. "I want a...a...thingy. From paradise! Like a bird! Or a snake. You know, a thingy!"

"A souvenir?"

"Excellent," Stiles replied. He looked down at his chest, hidden by the hospital gown, and poked at the strange bulkiness beneath. "Look! I'm wearing a bullet vest! Am I a cop?"

"It's a compression vest, and the doctor told you to stop poking it," Scott reminded Stiles. "Say goodbye to Jackson, it's time for a bandage change, okay?"

"Bye Stiles."

"Bye bye phone with Jackson's face!" Stiles waved Facebook's fin at him.

* * *

Jackson didn't immediately go visit Stiles. He and his parents had suffered through a four hour delay at the airport, missed their connecting flight, booked a new one, waited for the next flight, and got stuck in traffic on the way back from the airport. So the first thing he did was sleep for ten hours straight. Then of course he went to Stiles's house where the post-op recovery had been moved. Stiles's surgery was a week ago.

"Welcome back," John said when he opened the door. "How was vacation?"

Jackson told him a little about their hotel while they walked into the house. Stiles was laying down on the couch with the little whale toy watching Iron Man and drinking orange juice when they reached the living room. He smiled up at his friend and gingerly sat up.

"Hey man! Good to see you," Stiles winced as he moved too fast and jostled his torso. "How was paradise?"

"Oh, you know. Awesome as usual," Jackson held up the bag. "How's your little whale friend?"

"Shut up! Facebook is great recovery buddy and you're just jealous," Stiles stuck his tongue out at Jackson and held the little plushie close to heart.

"Right. Want your souvenir?"  
  
"Oh my god, yes!" Stiles made grabby hands, Facebook forgotten for the moment. "You actually brought me something!"

"You only asked me every day via text or video. Once in song." 

Stiles pulled out his first gift. It was a book of Mayan culture and religion with a tacky touristy bookmark sticking out of its pages. He flipped through it excitedly and recited what he already knew before turning back to his bag. The second gift made him gasp. Stiles covered his mouth with his hand and looked over at Jackson. 

"I...don't know if they're the right size, or if you had any swim trunks yet so I got you some," Jackson was blushing a little bit. "Do you like them?"

Stiles is silent for a moment, looking at the extremely tacky floral pattern and bright orange and blue colors. Jackson started apologizing for making assumptions when Stiles spoke.

"No, I...I love them! Thank you! How did you know my two favorite colors?"

"Oh. Lydia hates that shirt you wear all the time. She's tried to bribe Scott a bunch of times to throw it away," Jackson smirks at Stiles's muttered traitor. "You better appreciate that shirt. She wouldn't talk to me for a week when I refused to get rid of it behind your back."

"Seriously? It's not that bad! Orange and blue totally go together!" Stiles waved his arms dramatically and winced in pain. "Right?"

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, dude," Jackson shrugged. Stiles stood carefully and went to try on his new swimsuit. When he came back, Jackson winced at the sight of the compression vest over the bandages.

"I know, right? No wonder I was so high when I woke up," Stiles twirled for his audience. "Do they look...right?"

"Uh, yeah. Not bad, Stilinski," Jackson nodded in approval. "We'll go swimming when you're all healed up."

"Oh," Stiles placed a hand on lightly on the vest covering the fresh surgical stitches. "It's going to be awhile before the scars fade, so..."

"Then you and Scott can come to our private lake house this summer," Jackson said like it was an obvious choice. Stiles brightened at that. 

* * *

"Jackson?"

" _You_ called _my_ cellphone. Who else would it be?" Jackson put the phone on speaker and kept working on his homework. It had been a few days since he saw Stiles, who was taking the week off school much to the disdain of Mr. Harris. 

"Good point. Um...what are you doing right now?"

Jackson paused. He knew that tone of voice. It meant Stiles needed a favor but wasn't sure how to ask.

"Just trying to get ahead on chemistry. Why?"

"I...I need some help with...you know..." Stiles sounded so awkward Jackson almost laughed. He settled for just a snort of laughter. "Shut up! I need help getting the vest off and on so I can take care of the stitches, okay!"

"Oh. _Oh._ What about your dad? Or Scott's mom? Or Scott?" Jackson winced at how petty he sounded. "Sorry, just unexpected."

"It's okay.They're all busy. Dad's working a double and Scott's on a date with Allison for the first time in, like, _weeks_. Melissa was supposed to come over but she got called in last minute for a few hours and I just want to shower and go to bed but I can't reach all the hooks to get it off and definitely not to get it back on and you can have the leftovers in the fridge if you-"

"Hey, hey. I'm coming, ok? I'll be there in a little bit, alright? Hang tight," Jackson hung up and worked until he reached a stopping point. He drove to Stiles's house, steeling himself for what was to come. Stiles was showing great trust in him, and while Jackson appreciated that, he knew that seeing the evidence of the surgery would make everything more real. He could do this. It was stiles. He would do the same for him if he was hurt. Stiles met him at the door and let him in, ears flaming. He went straight to the bathroom and turned around.

"Just...unhook the back and then I'll come get you when I need to put it back on," Stiles was rigid as Jackson carefully unhooked the compression vest. "Sorry about this man, but you're the only other person that know about this."

"It's fine," Jackson murmured, his breath tickling the hairs on the back Stiles's neck and raising goosebumps on his arms. "Nobody's ever trusted me with stuff like this before, so...thanks."

Stiles didn't turn around when the last hook came undone, not wanting Jackson to see the white bandages too, not yet. They were crumpled and kind of gross from being under the vest all day. Jackson rummaged in the fridge for the leftovers Stiles had promised him and found a covered dish with leftover vegetable lasagna. Normally, he didn't like lasagna, but Stiles was an amazing cook so he heated it up in the microwave and ate while he continued his homework in the kitchen. Finally, Stiles came downstairs wearing pajama pants and no shirt. His hair was damp and he looked like he might fall over he was so tired. Jackson tried not to stare at the bright white squares of gauze covering his torso after sneaking a glimpse.

"Ready for me?"

"Come on, let's get this over with. I'm about to fall asleep on my feet."

Jackson followed him back to the bathroom and gently secured a new compression vest over Stiles's ribcage. This one had velcro as well as tiny hooks.

"Thanks man," Stiles yawned hugely and stretched, letting the compression settle. "Not that I want you to leave, but I want to sleep. See you later?"

"Yeah. I'll come by tomorrow with Scott if that's okay. He's drowning in econ and I can't help him because five minutes in I want to punch him in the face again."

"Sure, sure that's fine," Stiles said as they walked to the front door. "Just bring me some food as payment."

"Deal. Goodnight, Stiles."

"'Night, Jacks."

 


End file.
